Bloodied Lips and a Scarlet Smile
by Morbid DramaQueen10
Summary: The price of dreams isn't alway romantic fluff and stuff. A re-loaded version of the first chapter to "To Wish Upon a Moon." You don't need to read that first, just jump right in. Dark. M for Gore. No slash. Mr. Gold, OC. One-shot.


**This is a re-loaded version of the first chapter to To Wish Upon a Moon. I had this idea maybe a month after I wrote the original, and decided it would be a decent one-shot. A lot of the beginning is similar, though I re-wrote particular parts to be darker. The ending is especially different….I warn you, it's a little graphic, and not in a lemon-y kind of way. No slash…just gore.**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own OUAT. If I did, Skin Deep would've aired weeks ago.**

**I really hope you enjoy it. Please review.**

**-XXX-**

"I wish…more than life, more than anything…." I whisper to the moon. She is silent, weeping bright white light into the inky blanket surrounding her. Burning pinpricks frame her round face, like exquisite jewels. Never the less, the regal queen cries into her dark shroud. I envied her comfort, matched her sorrow. "More than the moon—"

"Oh, I do not know about that, my dear. There is a great deal of value in the moon." A voice sounds from just behind me, breaking my reverie. Chuckling, a few snaps of twigs underfoot, and my intruder makes himself known.

Green-gold skin shimmers beneath the night-light. A pair of wide eyes flicker, reflecting pure white orbs dead center of huge onyx pupils. Half of an angular face is masked by shadow, yet the profile is unmistakable. The devil-dealer. The imp of arrangement. Rumpelstiltskin.

His name has been tossed around in gossip circles for as long as I can remember. Always whispered, it is a name frequently paired with the shadiest of deals. He is known for his ability to change people's fate, as well as a remarkable capacity for cruelty. When unable to pay their debt, Rumpelstilskin collects his debtor's blood, families, or worse.

What could he want with me?

"Your words were summons enough, love." He leers. I shrink away from his gaze. My hands fly up to hug around my waist, offering little comfort.

Rumors flew in regards to the origins and breed of this imp. Some say he was demon's spawn, the result of an encounter between a minor princess and a demon. Others speculate he was a true man, once, but either made a deal of his own resulting in a monstrous transformation into trickster, or else regressed under the power of his own evil. Fewer still believe he was once a great mage, fallen into madness. Whichever it is, the pebbled greenish-greyish-goldish skin, matted hair, and wild eyes indicated a perhaps magically-influenced existence. Besides, everyone knows of his tendency to trade his powers for favors. Though no one truly knew the extent of his magical ability.

"So, so, so," He sang. "You wish."

I nod, eyes falling to the ground rather than view his twisted lips and slick skin. His fingers steeple. The nails are long. Several rings rest the three center fingers of each hand. They twinkle in the moonlight, the gems sparkling vainly. I shiver.

"Oh, come now, my beauty. You have a wish. What shall it be? A pretty new dress? A handsome prince? What could be worth more than the moon?"

"No, no, I shan't deal with you." I raise my head. "I know better. I've heard of you, and your dealings, sir."

His lips quirk. "Ah, lovely, you don't know half of it. But come, we've not even discussed terms, let alone your wish…now then…now then, you were saying?"

"It is nothing you can grant me, sir." I assure him, my voice high-pitched and trembling..

He smiles again, sliding closer to me. Fears seems to only edge him on further. I shudder as his thin chest brushes mine. The tough leather is hard, and smells of pine. A tongue snakes out to run along the edge of his dry lips. Wet, they take on a greater appearance of slimy malice.

"Try me," Rumpelstilskin suggests keenly. "I'm sure we can find some arrangement to your liking."

I pull away, turning back to the moon. A soft sound follows my motion-perhaps a sigh? Something to wonder at, but I move along without pause. "I tell you, sir, it is nothing you can possibly solve. This is a riddle that needs nothing more than time. Time will unravel all, I am certain."

Stalking about, circling me, his bright eyes flash. "Perhaps I might encourage time to…move along, shall we say?" He purrs. "I promise you, all of my deals are fair."

"And what sort of deal might you strike with me?"

The bright smile proves his joy at my taking his bait. He quivers with energy. These deals must be his life's blood. With a small cackle, the imp speeds up his circling. The footwork is complex, almost a dance. A great tremble, and the edge of climax is approaching. He senses my faltering confidence. It brings him a further burst of adrenaline.

"Well, well, you are most certainly ready to play the game?"

I merely stare.

He gazes back, turning his head as his body twists. The joy fades, replaced by a careful seriousness. "It depends on your wish. Some are more costly than others."

"Mine ought not cost much."

"I cannot know until you tell me," Rumpelstilskin breaths, tone tinged with impatience. Behind me now, he sneaks closer. I feel a hot burst of breath on the cool skin of my neck. My shudder brings a smile to his lips. Though I cannot see it, I can practically feel it crackle in the stale evening air. His dark energy alone is enough to drain anyone.

"Want I want, more than anything else in the world," I breathe, staring at the ground. The imp looms closer. "Is to know what I want. What will make me happy."

For what feels like an eternity, the night is still. Not even the cheery crickets play. The wind is silent. My breath is ballooned in my chest, held back with apprehension. Even the demon behind me cannot speak. He is considering. We wait.

Finally, with a low chuckle, my intruder wakes. Without pretense, I am spun to face the monster.

"Very well…."He murmurs between laughter, moving toward the nearest bolder. He lounges lazily, tossing his head back. "Alright, alright my dear. To know what you wish, to find your happiness. And what shall you give me for it, your pretty-pretty dreams?"

I take a breath. Negotiations are not my forte. Besides, I've nothing to bargain with—which is the very reason why I have approached him for help. My imploring words, however, have not been enough. I can see that now, looking into his lecherous gaze. Not a shred of humanity or empathy can be found in the oversized pupils. The steepled green-gold fingers drum together.

"I-there is nothing I can give."

"Then there is no deal." He hops off of the bolder, choosing now to occupy the ground. Quickly his narrow back is to me, receding into the shadows of the tree line. Along with his gait comes the crash of crushed dead leaves and twigs from beneath his boots.

This is a chance I cannot let slip away. "No!"

Crackling footsteps halt. He waits.

"There has to be something…I lack…" I shiver mid-sentence. "Imagination. Please, tell me what it is you seek. Surely there must be something." Anything would do. My hair, my clothes, my teeth. I'd heard tell of imps taking a person's voice in exchange for wealth, or a happy marriage. It is something I could live without.

"Yes," He practically slithers back toward me, eyes flickering like an excitable snake. I cringe as he stops just before me, nose-tip mere inches from my cheek. Cold radiates from the freakish flesh. "There is something. A triffle, really. But you humans, you always whine and moan, insist you cannot live without it. But I say differently. And besides," The imp smiles. "Everything has its price. You make the deal, you simply must be willing to pay."

"What, then?"

"How about…hm, hm. Your heart, for a start."

I blink. "My—what?"

"The warm thing the pumps in your chest, lovely." The unnaturally long fingers migrate to touch the place just above the organ. "I want it. And not in any metaphorical sense. I want this."

Jabbing my chest hurts. I wince.

"But that isn't possible."

He sneers. "And what do you know of the impossible and reality? I say it can be done, girl, take me for my word."

Considerations must be made, but I haven't the time. "Alright. Yes, then. My heart."

"As collateral." His eyes gleam. "For I shall want more. This wish is…tricky."

I swallow. More? What more could be taken?

"Yours eyes might be pretty things to have. But I shan't cut them from you, love. I'd much rather have the whole head."

If I wasn't already paralyzed by fear, I might've fainted away. "And that—that for my dreams?"

"Those are my conditions." Leering, he traces a wide heart into the flesh of my chest with one sharp nail. Dead center, where my most vital organ lies.

It is a lot to consider. My heart for my dearest wish-which, I didn't even know! My heart for all my dreams come true. My heart for…what?

"Very well," I finally choke.

Without a word, the long nails sink into my skin, parting the layers as if it were nothing more than water. Paralyzed with pain, I can do nothing more than let out a sharp intake of air, and slump against his weedy form. Soon, his entire hand is in my chest. The fingers wiggle against my innards, causing me to shudder and twitch as he prods within me. Breathless, I jerk occasionally, whimpering with every touch. These are sounds I've heard from my parent's room. Occasionally, coming from the behind the barn during festival season, or in the wood or field during solace, always by young men and women with no better occupations. However, I'm not making them out of any sort of pleasure.

I feel a sharp tug. The hand is extracted, and with it-a pearly specimen. In the moonlight it almost glows. A red, pink, and white piece of quiet flesh, with bits of tubbing and other such things hanging from its many mouths. The sight is horrifying. Dark, syrupy liquid leaks from the various tubes. The imp squeezes, and more drips lazily onto his hands, then the ground. I've doubled over. Surely this didn't come from me.

He cackles deliciously. Running one fingertip over the grained surface, he coos, "Oh yes, a very nice trade."

I feel so sick. My chest has closed, though blood has soaked my skin, as well as the neckline of my dress. Suddenly, I feel faint.

Rumpelstilskin lifts the organ up to his mouth. I fear he is going to consume it before me, but instead he unfurls his snake-like tongue to caress the bloodied surface. It is an intimate thing-like a lover's languishing kiss against a corpse. When he pulls his head back, the dark red liquid has transferred onto his lips. The scarlet smile is a terrifying sight to behold.

"Your dreams, my dear," He croaks before pulling me against him once more and forcing me into a bruising kiss. Brutal, practically savage, I taste rust and iron. A sticky sensation is left behind when the imp pulls away. With a flourish, he steps back, holding my heart to his chest, and evaporates with a loud _"pop." _

**-XXX-**

**This was fun to write. I don't do gore often, but we're studying the Cardiovascular System in my A&P class, so I thought it would be interesting to describe a human heart in a short story. And here we are.**

**Please review! **

**I hope my To Wish readers liked this. Think of it as a super-early Valentine's Day gift?**


End file.
